


The Last Bride

by IJustLikeReading



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Drinking, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Minor Character Death, Obsessive Behavior, Obsessive Love, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, dracula is basically a serial killer, let's be honest here, this is just my urge for a story with this pairing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22239157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IJustLikeReading/pseuds/IJustLikeReading
Summary: No one actually believed in vampires, beings that skulked in darkness and took souls. At least, Jack didn't- until he did, and he was too late in doing anything. Too late in getting the girl. Too late in saving said girl. Too late in her death too. In being confronted with Dracula, he's forced to deal with it all- because Dracula. . . well, he won't let his bride go.
Relationships: Dracula/Jack Seward
Comments: 31
Kudos: 138





	1. Journeys End in Lovers Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> So I binged Dracula, and immediately I wanted these two to be together. I have no idea why, I just wanted to write tradedy, romance and sex in one book. There's not much info out on Jack, or his work, so some things will be briefly mentioned in his day to day life. I've been rewatching scenes to get down certain dialogue, and I'll stray a lot. There are also moments of conversation in this chapter, where I don't add Helsing and Dracula's commentary. Anyway, I know I need to get back to my Hannibal fanfic (I'm just stumped).

_Standing, unsure, within Dracula's home- Jack stared at this monstrous being, disguised as a mere man. Although it was a poor disguise, Dracula made no efforts in pretending to be anything more than human. He was more than man, and more than monster. More handsome than some men, and Jack couldn't help but think it. Dracula showed age, but with the refinement and grace of something_ other _._

_"Ah! I always liked a lively one," halting, the vampire bows his head. "Um, Dr. Seward- she was your friend, was she?"_

_Upon being directly addressed, Jack feels a sliver of fear up his spine. The fear one feels when there's immense focus on them from something that could swallow them whole, and Dracula surely could, in terms of blood._

_"Yes," his tone small with loss of breath._

_His dark eyes remain fixed. "Now might be a good time to reflect that beauty. . .is only skin-deep."_

_With a fanged smile of malice and delight, Dracula opened the door. Jack hadn't been prepared, not one bit._

_"Hello, you," Lucy's tone is jaunty in her greeting._

_Over Dracula's tall form, Jack can see Lucy. Only, to Jack she looks like a burn victim who would be preparing to be buried six feet under. Not walking, or even_ talking- _Christ, the fact that her vocal cords functioned with her body in such conditions, showed why Dracula was so proud of their resilience._

_"Did you have much trouble finding the place?"_

_Lucy pleasantly replied, "I can always sniff you out, babe."_

_While the two have pleasant conversation like they're in the presence of the Queen, like the fucking weather was the same as dead bodies getting up each day- Jack and Helsing can only stare in horror fused with their disgust. Lucy looked like a vision R. L. Stine would incorporate in his Goosebumps series. Terrifying, and utterly unreal to spectators when dropped into their reality._

_Jack watches on, watching Dracula and Lucy share intimate space, and realization overcomes him the more another minute passes. It was the same feeling when he'd watched on as Quincey proposed, and the same feeling when he'd found out that Lucy was spreading the word of their shagging- "Three, four."_

_Utter despair. Lucy has never loved anyone more than she'd ever loved her reflection. If she smiled, the world smiled back hoping to be acknowledged. Hoping, but only used for their purpose and discarded. Jack, he was entertainment at one point. Quincey, used for his money. Dracula, Jack was quickly realizing that he'd been used for access to an eternity of life and beauty._

_"Jack." At one point, her breathing his name just so, would have sent him to the ground on his knees. Now, Jack can't help but feel like he's stuck in a nightmare. "Oh, Jack, what are you doing here?"_

_Lucy slowly begins to part from the vampire. "Ooh," she lightly sounds, as if looking at something mildly interesting. "And who's this. Finally, you bring someone," she snarks to glance at Jack, just brief in her contempt. She focuses her assessing stare back onto Helsing. "Bit pale though, if you don't mind me saying."_

_Lucy inhales in faux surprise, "Did you start without me?" Dracula shares her a look of pure delight, only as Jack watches on- he's sure that he's waiting for Lucy to see herself. In Dracula's lair, this is all a game. People are cattle, and the unlucky few are less than that, playthings. E_ _verywhere and anywhere is his home, there's no place he can't reach. Until of course, the sun comes up. But even then, where Jack and other humans had reprieve- until sundown, and sunrise, Lucy was just another choice of entertainment that gave_ flavor _to Dracula's stay on Earth. His blood wouldn't allow her peace no matter the time of day_

_Zoe, after sitting there watching the tragedy unfold, interrupts,"I'm not on the menu. I'm an old friend." There's tension within her tone, allowing the knowledge that the two weren't friends in the slightest. "We go way back."_

_Giving a double take, Dracula stares Zoe down with accusation- but without surprise, an accent vaguely found within Holland seeps through. His earlier speculation that Agatha was communicating through Zoe was correct. Agatha's blood remains in Dracula, and with Dracula's blood within Zoe- well, he's no longer surprised at all. It's a treat to have Agatha see just how well, and_ alive _he waltzed through her world._

_"Why are you just standing there, Jack," Lucy asks, staring intently at the fearful man. Jack sharply exhales. "Kiss me." It's an order, and with persistence the nightmare persists after him. "Kiss me, Jack." Trembling, Jack can only keep his eyes upon her, his legs barely working and bringing him so few steps away from her approach._

_Tears bud in his wide eyes, brow furrowed. "Lucy, no."_

_"Come on, Jack. Kiss me like you used to." Forcefully, Lucy grasps his shoulder, "Kiss me," and then attempts to hold his head in place as she leans in for a kiss. Jack manages to push her back, still trembling like a newborn fawn._

_"Kiss the girl, Dr. Seward," Dracula orders, no amount of patience in his words. "Journeys end," he states, an impatient tilt to his head, "in lovers meeting."  
_

_His lilting voice is far away from Jack, who is bracing against the table, and unable to stare at what was once the Lucy he knew._

_Sounds of something squelching, and broken apart-_ crispy _, reach him. Slowly Jack's mind is able to process that that's the sound a body makes with severe burns, so deep that veins were no longer, and bones were exposed. It's Lucy, her movement jerky and predatory as she sniffs him. "What's wrong, Jack? You can't look at me now?"_

_Jack makes a brief attempt, tears so close to falling, then lowers his eyes back to the ground immediately,_

_"The boy who looks at me all day, every day, can't you look now? What's the matter, Jack?"_

_Jack swallows and looks skyward, attempting to clear his eyes with rapid blinking. "Lucy," he hesitates to mutter. "Can't you see yourself?"_

_Prideful still, Lucy glares. "Of course I can see myself," her tone full of adoration. A shadow of the brilliant smile she had once had makes an appearance as she stares at her reflection within the table's glare of light. "Bloofer lady. Bloofer lady." She inhales, "Everyone. . .Everyone smiles when you're beautiful."_

_"Why aren't you smiling, Jack?" Her eyes boring into him as she works her jaw in consideration._

_Having watched long enough from the sidelines, Helsing makes her way around the table to Jack. "If you're so beautiful Lucy," Jack's mentor states, and interjects between the two to set down her phone, "why don't you take a selfie?"_

_Jack can only watch her. She poses in a way that's been done so many times in photos that Jack had seen of her, and she takes the photo. She collapses with a wail, continuing on and on. Before Jack can attempt to comfort her, Dracula intercepts. "My patient Dr. Seward," he grasps Lucy's heaving shoulders and kneels, "my patient." Lucy continues to sob as Dracula cradles her face, and Jack- he couldn't have imagined him to be so gentle. "Lucy, my love. It's a shock. But you've done so well-"_

_"Look at me," she gasps. Her eyes wide in horror of her own exposed, meaty arms._

_Lovingly, he states, "I see you, bloofer lady."_

_Lucy, as always focused on her image, asks desperately, "Will I always be like this?"_

_"Yes. Promise. Always." There's such joy in his voice, that it only makes Lucy heave harder. She stares up at him to fix it, to give what she'd been hoping for. Beauty, and an eternity._

_Lucy rages against the vampire, and pushes him away. She collapses onto her hands and knees. A stream of congealed blood stringing to the floor due to her open mouthed crying._

_Unable to bear to see her this way, Jack makes his way to her, a stake held behind his back. "Lucy," he pleads, a hand outstretched to her. "Kiss me."_

_Dracula watches him, neck exposed as he stares Jack down. There's delight in his expression, and a kindling fire going in his mind._

_"You don't . . .you don't want to kiss me," Lucy whimpers as she rocks herself._

_"Lucy Westenra, there has never been a day I didn't want to kiss you. And there never will be." Slightly untruthful, given that Lucy was this terrifying thing reduced to a blubbering mess._

_"Oh, Jack," she breathes, staring at the truthfulness on his face. She takes his hand, and crowds him. She kisses him. It's not like the "three" or "four" times they'd shagged, and it had meant everything to him. Her tongue is barely there, and she smells like she should be dead- he's afraid. Her hand reaches for the stake behind his back, and she moves to plead tearfully up at him, "Do it. Jack, do it."_

_And he does._

_Lucy Westenbrook is reduced to a pile of burning ashes. All the while Dracula stares at him fascinated and besotted._

* * *

Jack Seward bolts out of bed, crumbling to his hands and knees. His vomit barely makes it into the rubbish bin by his bedside. 

It's been a month since staking Lucy to ashes. A month since he left that room, and Helsing left it dead. It's been hard for him to eat, to regularly go to work, to do much of anything. With a violent shiver, another round of heaving ensues into his bin. 

Glancing at the time, he wipes at his mouth with his long sleeve nightshirt, and gathers himself up to go to work.

The moon's bright light shines through his curtains. 


	2. Dinner With A Count

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my third time writing this chapter, but I decided not to give up. I'm incredibly proud to have started this coupling, and I'm going to see it through. Anyway, I imagine Claes Bang (the actor of Dracula) to be in his 30s instead of his current age of 52.

Jack Seward gathered himself off of his knees, and prepared himself to get ready for work. He stumbled on weak legs to his bathroom. Feeling cold and clammy, Jack stood shivering in his long nightshirt uncontrollably- glancing in his mirror, he inspected his skin's sheen of sweat and loss of color before turning away. Mechanically, he bent over to turn his shower on to a comfortable temperature. Then he slipped his boxers off of his bony hips, hipbones sharper than the previous month, and slowly began working at his shirt buttons. 

Underneath the heat of the spray, Jack braced against the cold tile with his head bowed. His body too heavy to support on his own. 

These days his mind had been on autopilot- it was work, sleep, and then it repeated all over again. He tried his best to keep his mind off of recent events, if he avoided everything, he kept thinking it would all fade away. And God was that a lie he kept inforcing. He was losing sleep, losing weight by not eating, even making the smallest mistakes at work. 

It's been a month since Lucy died a second time. A month since he left that room alive and Dracula behind, and Helsing left it dead. The Jonathan Harker Foundation had abandoned the program due to Dracula's release, not much research could be done without the vampire and feeders were no longer necessary- all feeders, including Jack had been paid a sum of money to keep things confidential. Jack had returned to his regular job as a junior doctor, not like he'd left it, but it was now the only thing he had. His night terrors had almost cost him that, and he tried to cling onto the only consistency in his life to keep him sane. He slept as much as he could stand, and managed to make it for work each shift. 

It was all he could stand these days, anything else and he'd blow away in the wind. 

After his shower, he hurried to dress in his scrubs. Instead of eating something he knew he couldn't keep down, he opted for a thermos of coffee, then headed out to his car.

Prompt and orderly, Jack signed into his night shift, then gathered with a few other junior doctors for a briefing. He received his first patient file of the day, and fit himself into a headspace where nothing mattered but work. 

* * *

It was a relatively good shift. None of his patients had breached, he'd been staying hydrated and kept something in his stomach- better than any other day he'd had lately. Jack clocked out thirty minutes past, and hesitated at the entrance sliding doors. He could see that it was pouring, and he had nothing to protect himself with. _The sooner I leave, the sooner I can take a hot shower_ , he thought. 

As he briskly walked across the parking lot, with his keys clutched between his fingers, Jack cursed at himself for forgetting a jacket.

Within the pocket of his scrubs his phone vibrated as he neared his car, and he pulled it out. He stood in front of the driver's door, swiping at his screen to see a message. 

**Zev:**

**Hiiiii**

**I kno u havnt wnted to mt in a while, fancy a drink @ the usual hngout?**

Head bowed to prevent water getting on his screen, his thumbs twitched unsure of what to write. Zev had constantly been showing up within his life- whether it be letting Jack know he was there for him, or offering to drop off soup when he was sick, or asking if he could hang out. He hardly ever answered, because of how uncomfortable Zev's nonchalant behavior made him feel. One would think with how close he and Lucy had been, he would have mourned more than a week before reverting back to how things had been. Jack felt like he was the only one who was looking at the big picture, where an empty space was apparent but ignored. 

A firm grip suddenly latched onto the back of his neck, and forced Jack against his car. 

"Guess who," a low voice whispered into his ear, a nose tracing the appendage. "Miss me, Jack? Because I've definitely missed you."

Jack feared to move from his position after the hand left his neck. 

"Oh, come on," the vampire taunts. Teasingly, he caresses the defined contours and muscles of the doctor's back, the way he's hunched over (pointless, really) exposed his pale neck in a way that riled the count up in ways he hadn't felt in lifetimes. Not being able to bear the man turned away from him any longer, he forces him onto his back by a quivering shoulder. "There we go," he grips his jaw, forcing the space between them to lessen, "Look at that pretty little face." 

Instead of seeing the blue eyes he'd been obsessing over, lids were firmly covering them in protest of making eye contact with the count. "Look at me," he demands, squeezing the jaw firmly. "And you were doing so well, so daring the last time we met- where did that all go?" 

With a scoff, the vampire decided to force a more entertaining reaction out of the man. As he lowered his nose to the long, pale neck, he gave a hum at the appetizing scent that was partially ruined by the scent of fear. He disliked it, but disliked Jack's willful disobedience even more so. Like any animal kept in captivity, he felt that it was better to train it out of him early. The vampire didn't want to scare his prey too bad, a warning would suffice. "Open your eyes, or I'll rip out the neck of your patients and have you on trial for manslaughter, Dr. Seward." 

Jack, fearful but holding no doubt that Dracula gave him his word, opened his eyes.

He couldn't figure out which would turn out for him, playing as a human chew toy or disobeying and ending up in prison- at the end of it all, Jack felt like neither were the best choices to pick from. The odds against him at all turns, because that was how Dracula built his game. A maze that led right back to the beginning, endless halls and doors that led nowhere.

Nearly impossible to win against. 

Quickly pinching the collar of Jack's scrubs, he murmured, "The color brings your eyes out, wear it more often."

Seeing that Jack wouldn't be responding any time soon, he chose an alternative path to receiving a response. "Excellent, now- let's see who you're texting," snatching Jack's phone that had been clenched against his chest, as if hoping to barricade the vampire out, he continued," Oh, well isn't this pleasant." Jack could only watch, frozen stiff with caution, as long fingers swiped through his texts with unnatural quickness. For a being that had been born in an era where technology was nonexistent, he was quite skilled in handling it.

"Want to meet? Miss you- oh, I quite like how forward this recent one is- I could come over later tonight." Jack's eyes followed the large hands as they turned off his phone, and closer as one made his phone completely disappear behind a broad chest. He'd been watching so close, he'd forgotten that they were attached to a body that was now closing in on him completely. "Unfortunately, Dr. Seward, your reservations will be elsewhere tonight. Get in the car."


	3. Everything You Have to Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow Jack ended up at the dinner table with a count, and he wasn't sure he'd ever leave his seat alive by sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going with the flow with this story, and going with what feels right for who they are as characters. The only trouble I'm having is my chapters not being saved for some reason. Thanks for the support!

_"Get in the car."_

Jack had done so without hesitation, but also with an underlining feeling of excitement. His life had never been about following after adrenaline, doing something risky- he'd been the kind of child that studied all things that confused him, if only so that he wouldn't be confused by them again. He'd never felt desire for something abnormal to happen in his life, shagging with Lucy had actually been the biggest moment of his life (after, of course, being hunted down by a vampire). He didn't understand. 

Understanding his feelings for the current situation or not, he didn't want to die just yet. So, he got in the back of the car.

Hesitant to make any sudden moves, he kept as close to his door so as to retain the foot distance between him and Dracula. It would be a fib to say that it was _just_ fear, because it wasn't. It was fear of his desire. _Was this how Lucy felt when she chased down the embodiment of death and settled in his arms,_ Jack questioned within his mind. This pulsing undercurrent of low-set arousal. If so, he now understood, but not completely. Lucy hadn't ever made him feel as affected as this man did, Jack was content with his life, and so he didn't feel the need to search for something nonexistent in the vampire.

Lucy had always been searching for something or someone, that didn't fall over themselves to smile at her in adoration. She craved to be treated like something other than God's gift, to be understood- but she was mistaken that she'd found it in something eternally unimpressed with humanity. She was cattle, if only the pretty kind. 

While they were different, Jack felt like his arousal for Dracula's brand of murder and death should not be permitted or encouraged by himself, lest he end up dead just the same. God forbid, burned alive only to come back as beef jerky. 

_Sorry, Lucy._

"I can smell your desire, Dr. Seward."

Jack completely stopped breathing, his head slowly tilting up to see Dracula's reflection within the glass window. Right then, he looked like the smug equivalent of any other human douche Jack had had the displeasure of seeing around Lucy. Until he gave a fanged smirk, full of so much self-satisfaction, Jack almost dared to strike him within the close confines of the car. 

"What a delightful surprise, I look forward to _tasting_ everything you have to offer."

His guttural tone had Jack's breath caught within his throat. Right then, he knew that Dracula was lightyears apart from any man he'd ever met. 

He could only obsess over what _"everything"_ could mean to a vampire. 

* * *

Pulling up to the entrance of a parking garage, Jack craned his neck to look up at the brightly lit, unnecessarily tall apartment building. The car drifted at a steady pace, deeper and deeper into the dimly lit lot. It was until they'd stopped at an abnormally protected entrance, with a signed that read _Entrance for Personel Only,_ that Jack got an inside look to just how luxurious the count was living. He became fearful of just how far his connections reached in the new world. The driver rolled down his window and reached out to swipe his car within a machine standing by, and the car continued on. They moved languidly through a long tunnel, that at one point felt as if they were heading beneath ground.

He became increasingly aware that Dracula could murder him, and no one would witness it. His breathing became rapid with panic, and clutched at his soaked through shirt-

"Relax," an aggravated tone within his order, Dracula opened his door, "You'll ruin my appetite with your stench." 

Then slammed his door, leaving Jack to watch him strut over to stand by an elevator, watching him. An impatient gesture for Jack to follow had him scrambling out of his own seat. 

Within the elevator, Jack tried to stay as far away from the vampire as he could. As his eyes watched the lights of the floor buttons light up one by one, he was curled up within his own mind. Unwilling to allow any more traitorous thoughts to give off smoke signals. He was practically smelling like an invitation- _l_ _ook at me, drink me, I'm right here,_ Jack snorted at his morbid humor during this deathly serious time. 

He'd been so consumed by his thoughts, that he'd missed that they were now at the final floor, and Dracula was already heading to his door. 

Like an abused animal, Jack inched his way into his owner's home, staring with large eyes as the count moved around his table. He watched as broad shoulders shrugged off his expensive topcoat, the muscles bunching under his crisp white shirt as he swung it over the back of a chair. 

"Don't just stand there." The sharp tone caused Jack to flinch under the count's scrutiny. "Close the door. You're shivering, and you're no good to me sick. Go take a shower," his voice settled to something more conversationally appropriate. 

When Jack hesitated too long, the vampire bared his teeth with a clear warning.

After that, Jack was quick to follow his orders. As he rushed from the room, the vampire's eyes closely followed him as he went the only direction that made sense. 

The hall led him to a large bedroom, so stereotypical in the dark hues of the color scheme that Jack gave it an unimpressed look. "Really," he snarked, "how original."

"If you're not freshly dry and dressed within thirty minutes, I'll drag you out kicking and screaming, regardless of your nudity. And, Dr. Seward," his voice called from down the hall, "I'd properly enjoy it, make no mistake."

And Jack didn't bother to stand idle, critiquing color schemes or choice of gothic decor, he snatched up a neat pile of clothes on the bed and hightailed it to the en suite bathroom without thought. He had no time to ponder closely if the count was planning his arrival by the timely arrangement of clothes left for him, he refused to allow any situation that the count had described coming true. 

The bathroom was proper luxurious, and not what he expected. It was an asymmetrical type of theme with its room shape, and was mostly white. There was dark wood detailing, and bright hints of red. _Probably a reminder of his diet,_ he gave a snort at the thought. 

His shower was the only luxurious treat that Jack would accept. His fountain head shower was a delight to play with, and the pressure of the water had Jack relaxed within minutes. Without context, this would seem like a wonderful night in with a lover, but it wasn't that. And Jack would hold no misunderstandings about it- he quickly dried off and went to dress. 

He arrived within the dining room with ten minutes left to spare, smelling of something dark and masculine- he'd allow Dracula to kill him before he'd admit he gave himself a deep sniff before appearing in front of him. The sleep pants and button-up night shirt hung off of him, probably more so than it would if Jack hadn't been skipping meals. 

"Ah, there you are," the count murmured contently. "Now, what would you like to have for supper? I'm rather appalled with how gaunt you look, did no one teach you how to feed yourself properly?"

Struck mute by this entire situation, Jack could only blink rapidly. "I-," he swallowed to clear his throat, before continuing, "Are you attempting to cook, Count Dracula?"

With the nonchalance of a monarch, and it would be no surprise to Jack if he had been in the past, he settled within a chair at the head of his ridiculously long table. "I'd assume that we are far beyond formalities, so please address me by my first name. Vlad, and I'm sure I can address you by yours." Seeing that Jack would not twitch, not even if the wind blew at his scrawny form, the count sighed. "Sit down," he ordered. When Jack made to move to the farthest seat from him, he interrupted, "No, here," he pointed to the seat at his right.

Jack slowly seated himself where he was informed to.

"Now, to answer your question. No, I do not remember a time I ever needed to learn how to cook. I'm going to order in," he explained, wiggling a sleek phone at the frail man. "These days everything is being done for you, and everything is being delivered. It would be a shame not to take advantage of the convenience of this system." 

The surreality of Dracula, a _vampire_ , typing in a number on his keypad and standing to order in food- was just too much. 

_What. The. Everflying. Fuck_

The count returned after his call, a glass of wine and a single glass in his hands. Jack watched as he settled the glass in front of him, and poured the deep red of Pomerol, a 2005 Bordeaux Blend- the bottle red, whatever the fuck that meant- into his cup.

"Wine?" The question wasn't, really, a question. 

"Will you be drinking as well," Jack questioned, frowning at the single cup at the table. 

The count settled within his seat again. "No, I do not drink."

Puzzled, Jack quipped, "Why do you have any within your home then?"

Deep, dark eyes bore into his own blue. Assessing his very thoughts, picking them apart with ease. 

"Because, Jack, if I have a guest- it means I have dinner. The sweet notes of the wine adds a certain-," he paused to think, " _flavor,_ that I find enjoyable to my meals. It truly heightens a human to something actually valuable, with how expensive these bottles are." Without thought to filter any of his thoughts with shame, the vampire frowned at the bottle of wine. 

"I'm not your dinner," Jack stammered in horror. 

Tilting his head in wonder, Vlad smiled in amusement. "Are you really in the position to tell me what you are and aren't? You are what I allow you to be. Tonight, you're on a trial period, be a good boy or you'll be a dead one by the end of it."

Vlad's smirk flattened with his threat. 

"You're a monster." Jack breathed as calmly as he could, he feared the count would swallow him up right then, if he hadn't the patience for games, that is. 

"And you're human," he reasoned, "not one of you is perfect." 

Somehow Jack ended up at the dinner table with a count, and he wasn't sure he'd ever leave his seat alive by sunrise.


End file.
